do it like you mean it
by monkey face19
Summary: You put all your energy and strength into reassuring me and whispering words of encouragement into my desperate ears. I think my ears simply heard what they wanted to.
1. Chapter 1

**_Disclaimer: i don't own a thing, please don't sue me, thanks_**

_i loveeeee reviews :)_

**_Note: Well, ok, this is going to be a story witha few chapters. This is about a few characters discussing there most memorable, good or bad, sexual encounter. I have no idea where i got this from lol but i hope you guys like it. Thanks to all those who review me, i honestly appreciate it :)_**

**_morgan_**

**Annette**

It wasn't what I had expected but I suppose nothing ever is, the one thing I have learned from all of this is that its best to expect less so you won't feel dissapointment. They tell you things, tell you things to scare you or deter you from committing the ultimate sin, to prepare you, or so they say, but nothing could have prepared me for that. I was expecting what I assume most girls expect. Not that I was expecting scented candles and rose petals I mean c'mon, there was nothing about you that screamed out scented candles and roses, but I had thought it would mean less. I had always deemed sex to be a very important act that should be thought out and carefully planned. I had always thought it to mean so much which is why I was blown over when it meant far more then I had presumed. And if I had known then what I know now I would have ran for the hills before things got out of control. But of course I didn't know and like the childish girl I am, I threw myself at you with all my might in hopes that you would catch me and unfortunatly you did.

The kissing was nice, I had kissed plenty before you so I was confident in my administrations. Then suddenly your lips moved from my mouth to pieces of skin that had never been touched. The feeling was nice, a welcomed change, nothing drastic, it was enough for me to handle...at first. Being naked infront of a person for the first time is utterly terriffying. Your eyes lingered far too long for comfort and i found my muscles twitching underneath my skin. Skin...a word which held no particular meaning before, started to sound dirty. Your eyes burnt holes in my chest and my belly, your fingers danced lightly over previously untouched areas and i couldn't breath. I never protested any of your actions which i'm sure you were taken aback by, i was quite proud of myself.

After adjusting to the bran new nakedness i found myself thrown into an entirely new situation. Where had your mouth gone? I was incredibly confused. No, i'm not a complete moron, I was aware of...that type of thing but I certainly hadn't expected it, hence my new philosophy on expectations. My thighs instinctivley closed and an embarassing squeal errupted from my throat. There was a tongue where no tongue was ever meant to go. All rational thought was chucked out the window at that point, shocking, because rationality was my strong suit. I had always wondered about that...the act that you were committing on me and as soon as I felt it I was instantly ashamed of ever wondering about such things. The worst part was that despite my shame..I enjoyed it, yes, I enjoyed it despite myself, awful! My fingers curled around something, cloth maybe, and if I had long fingernails i'm sure I would have shredded whatever it was I had been clutching on to for dear life. It was so strange, the feeling, like you were talking to me, telling me secrets, only I couldn't hear them past my shreiks.

The look on your face when you came up for air, I had thought was admiration, now when I think back on it, i'm quite sure it was smugness. You carefully, skillfully, placed your arms on either side of me, trapping me, assuming that I would have sprinted if the oppurtunity presented itself. Blind fear ripped through me as you did. A fire surged through parts of me that had always been neatly tucked away and preserved. And I knew then, that you'd have me forever even if you didn't want me. You took this from me, I threw it at you, either way i'd always belong to you. The feeling is almost undescribable, certainly was not what I had been taught to expect. When you read articles or sit through those horrendous health classes where nurses go on and on about nonsence you don't imagine this, they never tell you about this. Your eyes burrowed into my head, those pretty eyes that i'd die to trust, the same eyes that stared right through me, past me, as if I wasn't really there. I wanted to scream out "do it like you mean it" but I knew oyu didn't mean it. You put all your energy and strength into reassuring me and whispering words of encouragement into my desperate ears. I think my ears simply heard what they wanted to.

It took far too long and it hurt far too much, all of it hurt, Your knife that was stabbing me, your eyes that didn't see me and your mouth that betrayed me. I just wanted you to get off of me, get out of me and leave me to decompose on my own. You didn't want to be there, well, not for the right reasons and I didn't want to be there because my fraudulence made it hard to breath. That's what I was you know, a fraud. There I was, Annette Hargrove, poster girl for the rules of catholicism, spread eagle underneath a devil of a boy. All of my rules and regulations were cast away by a quiver of your lips. If it was that easy then maybe it was never real in the first place. Maybe my high morals weren't so high after all, your proof of that aren't you? Reguardless of all that, my love for you intensified with each thrust, with each bump of your pelvis, with each blink of your vacant eyes. I had discovered numerous things about myself that day, but one thing that didn't change was my complete devotion to you. And as you came I became aware of the fact that part of you was in me, we were connected and I never wanted you to pull out. Actually, i was terriffied that if you did you'd take my insides with you. I imagined that you'd pull out and bring my pancreas, bladder and intestines with you and i'd be left with my organs dangling between my legs, morbid, I know.

I knew that onceI left you'd feel the regret that I already felt and I didn't want to be that sebastian, I didn't want to be your biggest regret, I didn't want to be the worst mistake you ever made. When it was over you laid beside me, mindlessly playing with my bellybutton, softly telling me things, lies. I didn't care what lies you told me, as long as you told them to me softly. And when I left dread piled itself down my throat. Anger smacked me in the face and my stupidity kicked me in the teeth. Oh annette, you were so wrong about everything, I didn't fully understand that then as I do now.

I didn't want to go back to my room, I didn't want to see pictures of my family and friends or more importantly of myself. I tried to shake the thoughts from my head, the bad thoughts. Thoughts of you telling your friends about this, about splitting the headmasters daughter in two. I tried to feel nonchalant, tried not to feel like a rape victim because honestly I wasn't, I just felt like one. My mind was conflicted, I wanted ot wash you off me but keep you inside me, nothing made any sense. But mostly I just didn't want to be alone with myself, when your alone the truth is front and center where usually it just lays underneath the surface. I couldn't handle the truth, not after I did what I did and not after who I did it with.

And there I was, completely undone and violated. It would have been easier, I think, if I had been raped, maybe then I could at least share the blame with someone else. It was the stupidest thing I had ever done because it only made my feelings enflate, it only made me more susceptable to your devious ways and despite all of that, I couldn't possibly have loved you more.

You didn't love me, i'm sure that if someone honestly loves you, you can feel it, all i could feel was the aftermath of my decision running slowly down my leg

hope you guys liked this, either way review me lol thank you


	2. shark

**_Disclaimer: i don't own anything so please don't sue me, thank you_**

_pleaseeeeeee review me :)_

**_Note: okay, this is the second installment in the sexual encounter series lol. I owe this completely to katie who helped me out so much, thank you katie :). and i'd also like to thank sam and everyone else who reviews me, i totally appreciate it. This story is kathryns pov, it is entirely fictional and i'm not sure if it works so let me know lol thanks, morgan_**

**Kathryn**

My life was never bright, there were no pastels in the world i inhabited. Every shade was morose, even pinks and purples held no vibrance. This wasn't something that occurred overnight. It was a fact that has been ever present...that i make things dark. Even as a baby, my mother said that i fidgeted when shown affection and violated any and every rule that was enforced upon me. My mother went through 13 nanny's when i was between the ages of 3 and 12. She said they all complained of my coldness and irritability but the most prominent complaint...every room i occupied was cloaked in shadow. Being told your a monster at the tender age of 9 would be too much for any child to handle. Any child told such things would no doubt feel like a freak of nature, in turn, causing them to act out in rash ways, ways such as pushing nanny number 11 down an endless flight of gold leaf stairs, which caused some chips in the paint that my mother still hasn't forgiven me for.

Yes, its been an ever present fact that i was no ordinary girl, so to say that one particular incident turned me into what i am, or even a few incidents, would be a falacy. But it would be fair to say, i think, that some things have contributed to my current state. That sounds about right, some things and more importantly...some people...some person.

My mother married him when i was 12. It was a summer wedding which i was overjoyed with because i got to wear pretty summer colors, colors that my mother frowned upon due to the fact that a girl such as myself didn't belong in childish colors. And also, according to her, i just made them black anyway, that's me, always a shade, never a color. The first time i saw him was when i was slowly making my way gracefully down the aisle, pretending i was the bride. I hadn't been aloud to attend the rehersal dinner due to my "bad behavior". It didn't bother me however, i didn't really want to be included anyhow. He was attractive and not "older man" kind of attractive, if i had been more childish i'm sure i would have referred ot him as a "dream boat" like all the other young girls at my mothers wedding did. All eyes were on me, not my mother, as she came, no, sauntered down the aisle. Already i could see the envy in her eyes, turning them an even deeper shade of green, like my own, and i could tell at that moment she was regretting making me the maid of honor, for i got to stand before all and soak up the admiration as she took second seat yet again, it made me smile.

I always despised weddings if not simply for the fact that i had to attend one almost every weekend, most were usually my mothers. The vows were always the worst part. The sappy, syrupy goop that made most people weep made me queasy. Liars telling lies in the house of god, may our lord and savior forgive them. These vows however, were slightly intrigueing, mostly because my mothers new husband was making eyes at me while simultaneously swearing to the lord his devotion for her. Nothing could have possibly made me happier in that moment, the only thing i actually took great pleasure in was defying the whore who birthed me. And what could possibly be more defiant then eye fucking her new hubby?

This continued for quite awhile, this innocent flirting, not that it was at all innocent, not on his part, or honestly, on mine. She pretended not to notice the subtleties. The eyes he made at me, the lips i licked for his viewing pleasure. Even at 13 i knew how to entice, i did not however, no what to do once they had been enticed. I wasn't a whore, not then, i only fancied myself one. I had next to no experience although i would never confess to such things. So, naturally, i had just assumed that the line was drawn, a very thick line that he wouldn't dare to cross, assumptions are for morons thats why i no longer assume, he taught me that, he taught me many things. My "schooling" began the summer following the day we met, the exact day, there one year anniversary, our one year anniversary.

A fight had errupted over something or other, probably me, which would explain her fuming about and eventually leaving for a week to galavant across europe. I'm quite sure that she knew what was going to happen, she knew what he wanted to do, and she left me alone to recieve my punishment but instead of her it was he who inforced it. I think that is why i hate her the way i do, she knew, and simply handed me over like a bribe, take kathryn, do what you will to her, just don't leave me, thanks mom!

The day was sticky and a cloud seemed to loom over me while in every other part of the sky only sun could be found. I had just got back from tennis lessons, which i always found to be a waste because my athletic ability had always been lacking, and he was there waiting, in my room. I knew from the moment i stepped into my room what was going to happen. I could smell it in the air, his impatience, his frustration, his reckless need. Reckless, because wanting a child of 13 is anything but safe, anything but secure. I wasn't afraid as much as i was angry. That was my room! He had the gall to simply wander about my room, picking up my things and making quips. I made a mental note of everything he touched so i would remember to throw it out later. The momentum kept building, he kept talking about how pretty i was and i was so mature for a girl my age. the fact that he never said my age outloud didn't escape my attention. He was pretending that i wasn't a child, that's ok, i was pretending too. I pretended that it didn't hurt, i pretended that i wanted it and most of all i pretended that this wasn't what it was. His hands only compared in size to that of baseball gloves, yes, big baseball gloves that tore my skin off the bone.

The worst part was the sounds, the sound of the act was enough to make me vomit. Slapping noises reverbirated off of the walls, along with his pants and dirty words. He just wouldn't shut up, he felt the need to describe the feelings, to describe what my insides felt like. I did my best to stay quiet, to not cry, i couldn't cry, i couldn't acknowledge pain, but it was ever present and unsubsiding. My tiny fists balled themselves and pounded on the bed. My eyes hid underneath there lids like the cowards they are. My legs became limp and gave up hope. The only part of my body that didn't cower away in fear was the part he was ever so gently barreling into, the part that took the brunt of his excitement, the part that was subjected to his torturous abuse.

I know now, that it didn't last long. At the time i was confident that he would never stop, that this whole sex business was a never ending activity. But eventually, it stopped, he emptied himself on me, woulnd't want to soil the child right? And with that he left, he muttered something incoherent and made his way out my door and into his office to call my mother, i'm still not sure what the topic of conversation was. I laid still and panting on my filthy sweat covered 300 thread count sheets. I could feel it all, i could feel his handprints embossed on my pelvis. I could feel his teeth marks on my neck. I could feel the blood pooling under my skin, creating black and brown bruises, the colors i hated most of all. And just as i expected, upon inspection, i looked like a piece of damaged fruit, a bruised peach. At that moment i hated the mirror, it was showing me the truth and i've never really taken to the truth. My hair was all mussed. My belly was covered in him, my eyes trailed after it as it made its slow journey down towards the one area i was terriffied to look at. The area that was once a nice, tiny, little place that i use to enjoy was now the cause of my shame. I told myself over and over not to look, that was, until, i heard the noise. I looked at the fawcet hoping i hadn't turned the tap properly, but no, luck has never been on my side. the sound refused to stop "drip drip drip", i had hoped it was water but the sound was far to angry to be water. It wouldn't cease, it just continued to mock me. my eyes inadvertantly went to the place they didn't want to see, the used place, the bad place.

My inner thighs were covered with a pink sticky fluid and the beautiful mexican tile my mother paid thousands for was marred by a growing pool of blood. I suppose now, looking back on it, that was a metaphor for my existence. The blood tainted the pure white of the tiles just like i would taint everything in my life from a pretty white to a sickly black. In that moment i hardened, my arteries turned to stone and my skin thickened, a girl who at the temder age of 13 was already hard was now harder then concrete, harder then the tiles she was hemmoraging on.

He smelled it, the blood, he always came back for more, like a shark. It lasted until i was almost 15, my mother found a new suitor, one who didn't seem to find me quite as intoxicating, she found what she was looking for. She knew! he was anything but discreet about it, flaunted it as if it were a love affair. And even though it was no such thing i let her believe it was. She wanted it to happen, wanted him to hurt me because she was so envious of her little girl, and although i'm sure the aftermath of it is what i am today, i couldn't let her know it hurt, i couldn't give her the satisfaction. I'd rather be seen as a whore then a weak rape victim, because i'm not a victim, i have victims.

He always came back for more. He knew when i was alone, knew when to strike, and just like a shark, he could smell my blood in the water.


	3. slaughter

**Disclaimer: i don't own a thing, no suing, thank you**

**pleaseeeeeeeeee reviewwwwwwwwww meeeeeeeeee**

**note: howdy! this is the third chapter, sorry it took so long! this takes place right at the "your a little toy sebastian" segment of the movie, except they have sex :) this was super hard to finish cause my mind is all a blur lately, so if it sucks i'm sorry lol tell me what you think, thanks, morgan**

what was she worth to me? i'll never tell because i'll never know, time certainly changes people and too much time has passed to ever really be able to measure the weight of my love for her. I have to admit that once i got what i wanted i had an earth shattering realization that what i wanted wasn't what i wanted at all. Teenagers are tricky creatures, bi polar with a side of schitzophrenia. i am sebastian valmont, your brain on drugs. I should have known, things never go my way and it was irresponsible and cocky to think that just because i wanted it so badly that i would get it. I've learned now that truly, people only get what they deserve. To think that i deserved that is just further proof that in plain...i'm a bad person, and bad people only deserve the baddest of misfortunes.

I never thought that she would be considered one of my misfortunes, kathryn, the worst person i've ever known, the best person i've ever known, tell me, is there really that much of a difference? I should have known how it would play out, i should have anticipated how this would work out in her grand scheme of things, she was always scheming that one! I should have known that i was just another puzzle piece to her, well, in all honesty, i did, but i thought i could change that. That's what got me, my ever growing need to change things, things that don't need changing and especially things that are unchangable, things like her. It was all due to my never ending need of her acceptance, her tolerance, but kathryn was never tolerant enough to tolerate intolerance and thats what i had become. A love sick puppy in her eyes. I can only imagine how she felt. The boy she ...sort of loved, falling clumsily head over heals for someone else. I know it cut her insides up, she didn't even have to tell me that. She may be as mean as they come but she still had pride and in her eyes, i pissed all over it.

It wasn't intentional...well...thats a filthy lie isn't it? At first, yes, i guess it was, it was nice to see kathryn foam at the mouth whever annettes name came up. It became so bad in fact that when speaking about annette, kathryn made us refer to her as, "she we do not speak of", and it was cute. It certainly wasn't common to rouse such a response from her seeing as to how she hated giving me any sort of satisfaction.

So we played our games and technically, i won. There's something about double edged swords that just seem so unfair. It all went to hell in a neat and tidy package, i fucked myself over a million times or more in the course of a few weeks, shameful. I made too many mistakes to count and even now i'm not sure what was a mistake and what wasn't. There's only one thing i am positive about. That, that night, the night in question, was the biggest mistake out of the never ending slew of mistakes i have made in my short life. I think that was the worst part, i never wanted her to be a mistake.

The scene itself was quite ridiculous. She was scowling like a coyote while stripping, i was sneering in disgust at the lagistics of the scene. There I was, collecting my winnings, trying to push aside my embarassment and shame, feelings that were quite new to me, all the while with her beady eyes on mine, trying to slice my throat with a stare. Her disdain for me made the air thick, I didn't have to guess what was on her mind, she had been all to eager to tell me. She told me with a great energy of my patheticness, of my idiocy, of how much she saw me as a castrated pig, of how fucking me was destined to be her greatest shame. That's quite insulting when you take into account all of the shameful acts she had committed. The bra came off as she called me a fag. The pantyhose came off as she told me she hated me. And the underwear came off as she told me she never loved me. The more she took off, the more naked i felt. Every time an article of clothing was chucked to the floor a part of my heart exploded.

"This doesn't mean a thing" the words slid from her mouth like honey then hit my ears like fire. She wanted to make sure that i suffered, that i payed for what i did to her, or what she thought i did to her. Her delicate fingers danced on my skin like razors, leaving behind a trail of blood that only i could see. Her movements were frantic, not graceful as they usually are, kathryn put all her might into trying to break me that day. Her sharp pelvis cut into me like a knife through butter, in turn, i sank my teeth into her belly like a vampire, trying with all my might to suck the life from her, or at least the words of hate she wouldn't stop slinging.

"this is the first and last time" she had said through clenched teeth while staring at the wall behind my head. And i'm quite sure that if i had bothered ot look i would have seen tears brewing in those little eyes of her, eyes of tragedy. The feeling was too much, she got inside me, she fucked me. Have you ever been fucked by a girl? She was penetrating me, raping me, violating me and all the while managed to look right through me, apparently i'm nothing, i'm nothing at all, she didn't see me, she never saw me. I tried as hard as i possibly could to concentrate on something else, to ignore kathryn and pretend, tried to think of annette. Annette...the nice girl, candy coated, it would have been so much better if i had met her first. I closed my eyes and tried, reguardless of the pretending, i still saw kathryn, she pried my eyelids apart without trying.

I tried to show her, i tried with every thrust and every lick to show her how i felt. All i got in return was a slurr of some sort directed towards my manhood, she would give no firgiveness and show no mercy. I had managed to do something to kathryn that no other boy had ever done, i hurt her. She confided in me the most secretive things, hinted towards love she had showed me softness where everyone else simply got stone and i had given it all back to her, as if i never wanted it in the first place. I betrayed her by falling in love with annette and if i hadn't had such an ego i could have fixed it al by simply telling kathryn the truth, that yes, i did love annette, but it didn't match the love i felt for her. Of course i would have been happy spending my life with annette because annette is the type of girl you spend the rest of your life with, but thats simply because kathryn wouldn't have me for the rest of her life. I would have been willing to stop with the rituals and the games but she never would, it was all she knew, i've always known that kathryn never valued me as i did her.

But i'm not one for backing down, so i kept my mouth shut as she fucked me and let her think that i hated her, that she disgusted me, that even though i may have been in her, i was thinking of another which is simply unheard of. How could i ever have thought of another when all i thought of was her?

I prayed for it to end...she ended it. My body went cold as she left the room, strange, because most people found that she made things cold, she had always made me warm. "your not special sebastian" her pretty mouth formed the words that i never heard, couldn't hear. I didn't cum, three had been nothing pleasurable about what had taken place. It had only been another game, another way to fuck with eachother, to hurt eachother, the only thing that either of us had ever been any good at. She left my room that day and i knew it was over. She would never forgive me and i would never ask for forgiveness. I had done all i could, i threw her the obvious. But as usual i had expected to much and dissapointed myself, i had gone there expecting a fight, a harsh exchange of words, instead, she poured the gasoline and lit the match. My shoulders were heavy with dissapointment, it was my own fault i guess, i expect too much...i was oblivious to her, i was passed over, i was nothing at all.

From then on, sleeping in my own bed had been impossible, how can you sleep when your bed is on fire? Kathryn had left her mark on me, she made me feel weak like a girl, she fucked me so hard that my body had left a dent in the mattress. She stripped me of everything i had, she ate me up and then licked her fingers clean. I don't often admit ot such things, but i never knew her true capabilities until that day, the day that i realized what we actually were. I was the lamb and kathryn...kathryn was the slaughter


	4. massacre

**_Disclaimer: I don't own a thing, no suing plaese, thanks_**

_Please review this bad boy lol_

_**Note: okie dokie, this is the 4th chapter and it is from ceciles pov. I'm not quite sure of the response i'm going to get because it isn't very pro kathryn/Sebastian, not as a couple but as people in general lol. I hope you guys like it :) shout out to all those great people that review me and to sam for helping me out on this one :), thanks, morgan**_

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**_cecile_**

I'm still surprised at my ability to feel. one would think that after all that took place i would be left an empty shell, a blank slate, but unfortunately, no. Emotions still come to me, although not in waves as they use to, now its more subtle, instead of a sharp sting its a dull ache. Instead of sheer happiness theres a muddled satisfaction. Instead of searing pain theres simple acceptance. The only real emotion i feel with full force is pity. Yes i may still have a heart but it has not and will never weep for you sebastian, you or any of your accomplices. The only person involved in this game that deserves pity is me and on one of my good days i'd include annette...but today isn't a good day.

Ithink the worst part of it all is having to relive it everyday. Having to hear the insipid play by play of events that people simply refuse to stop discussing. You, you lucked out as usual, you got to die while i have to endure it day after day for the rest of my life. The tragic love of kathryn and sebastian. The heartbreaking romance of sebastian and annette. The trio of tragedy, the triangle of torment...fuck you. Thats all anybody seems to be able to discuss, they all seem to forget the innocent ones, typical. Thats what hurts the most i think, there all blinded by your boring love affairs, so much so that they can't see what was left behind, they can't see what price some had to pay just so you could feel enlightenment.

Would you like to know what hasn't escaped there attention? The fact that you defiled me, the fact that i was a joke, a walking punchline. No, that they haven't forgotten. I still get snickers and hear the whispers, my mother still reminds me of it everyday, how badly i embarassed her. It's quite ironic isn't it? in any other part of the world, i would be the one people sympathized with, i would be the one people cried for. But not here, not in manhatten where being a vindictive whore is the only acceptable way of life for a girl, thank god that i've acramated.

Another thing that i'm sure you'd take great pleasure in is knowing that there are actual girls who envy me. There are some girls so desperate to get there grimy hands on you that they actually want to be me. Cecile caldwell, a one time whore of mr sebastian valmont, sad. The questions never cease even though they know it is the last thing i'd ever want to discuss, especially with girls with such low self esteem they actually think what transpired between us was romantic.

There was nothing romantic about it was there sebastian? you made sure of that. You didn't even put forth the effort to comfort me with lies like you did annette. I wasn't even worth the brain cells you would have wasted trying to come up with them. I was just a favor for kathryn, i was just a chore. But despite all of that...you enjoyed it...didn't you? You took imense satisfaction, not because i was a good lay but because you always did enjoy being merciless, and what is more merciless then that?

You made me keep the lights on...you wanted to watch it. You wanted to witness the penetration, the violation, you liked to watch! I begged you for what felt like hours to grant me just that one wish. I didn't want to see it, i didn't want to watch you do that to me. i begged you to show some sort of kindness...it never came, not even when i cried. You didn't waste your time with pleasentries, what would have been the point of that? i was only done out of boredom, i wasn't there to enjoy myself, i was there to amuse you, to occupy your time. Nothing about it was soft, not your skin, not your touch and certainly not your kiss. Your lips were big and puffy yet felt like murder, you kissed me like a massacre. Although your touch felt like punches, i took blow after blow because it stopped me from thinking, which admittedly, i never really did much of. Thinking only makes things worse, only makes you aware of the reality of the situation.

You didn't give me much direction, you only barked instructions every now and then, although they were closer to commands. I remember that i was awash with confusion, the only help i recieved was "god, spread your legs cecile" i was too stupid then to hear your mocking tone but boy oh boy i can hear it now. I was also to dumb to expect pain. My logic had been, it can't possibly hurt that bad...everybody does it. And once again kathryn had led me astray. The pain is almost undescribable. It felt as if you had placed your mammoth hands inside me, spread me open, then tore me apart. I'm not sure if i actually did or not, but i could have sworn i heard a ripping sound, a shredding, as if a piece of cloth was torn into strips. I couldn't feel anything other then fire and i had felt very confidant that you had struck a match and let it burn inside me.

Your hands gripped my shoulders for leverage as you pummeled me, you didn't start off slow like a nice boy would have. My mouth cracked open with whiny protests but they were only met with " take it like a big girl" and my heart broke..along with any security i had ever foolishly felt in your presence. I had known that you didn't love me, which was fine, i didn't love you either, but i had thought that you at least...liked me. I had thought that...maybe...we were friends. I had thought that maybe...you would be nice to me, that i would be safe with you...stupid. I realized then that you weren't interested in being friends...i wasn't worth that was i sebastian? All i could think of was i how wished you were ronald, cause ronald is a nice boy. He would have stopped when i asked, he wouldn't have snickered and bit me, he wouldn't have gone out of his way to hurt me.

Afterwords i tried to pull myself together, tried to show you that i was a big girl... a big girl like kathryn. Hell, i didn't even flinch when you chucked the filthy condom on my belly with a giggle and ran to the shower to wash any sign of me off of yourself. I didn't cringe at the evidence of my corruption, i simply stared at it in fascination, i was something to you after all! I was your trashcan, i was your entertainment, i was your walking hole, i was your cheap porno. I ducked my head under the pillow to hide my sorrow and planned on staying hidden until my 18th birthday.

I was never interested in being loved by you sebastian, because I, unlike others, never really found you all that charming and trust me when i say that it wasn't your charm that got my legs to spread. Most people thought of you as a god, well your not my god boy so don't think for one second that i ever worshipped at the alter of sebastian valmont...your not my god sebastian. Everybody thought you were different, they thought you were superior, you and kathryn both agreed with the majority i'm sure. You both thought so highly of yourselves, that you were smarter then the rest. Well...your dead and kathryn is slowly decaying somewhere in...witchita?...ohio? i don't really remember...nobody does, nobody really cares, poetic justice at its finest, tell me...how superior is that babe?

You were really nothing special, neither of you. There was nothing beautiful or tragic about what happened. Whats beautiful about a fading coke princess and a whore? Whats beautiful about two selfish siblings hurting innocent people out of jealousy? Thats what you were wasn't it? jealous? Jealous because I had a chance of normalcy, i had a chance for love without lies and deception, and you would never have that...who would ever love a slut like you? When its all boiled down, when you pull all the components apart...you were just...a bad person, you and her. People go on and on about the two of you, your love for one another, but there are no excuses sebastian, the things you did...neither of you ever deserved to be loved.

And now...i'm sad to say..i'm not that much better. I do things that a person with self respect would never do. I lie in bed with my legs wide open just waiting for the next guy, thats my life now, just waiting for the next guy. But despite all of that, i'm still far better then either of you ever were. Sure, i whore it like the best of them, but...i'd never hurt someone, i'd only hurt myself. I know your rolling your eyes at this moment at my stupidity but i don't care because i can live with myself. I've done awful things but only to myself and thats what matters, i would never hurt someone the way you did, i would never want to be seen as a bad person...you never know just how you look through other peoples eyes.

Do you remember the last words you said to me sebastian? I do. It was the day you died. I was on my way to meet up with ronald, i wasn't scared though, i knew he would do it nicely. You grabbed my arm and pulled me towards you. That fat mouth of yours trailed my ear as you asked with a snarl "how does it feel to be a whore?". To answer your question sebastian...it feels superb!

I wonder from time to time if when kathryn dies, will you reunite? will you combine forces once more and bring on an apocalypse? For some reason i doubt it or maybe i just don't really care. Do you ever think of me sebastian? Of taring me apart? Of ruining the life that had just started to blossom? If i was a gambling woman i'd put my trustfund on "no", its just too much to expect, that i'd be good enough to remember. I hope you both never forget what you did. I hope you both suffer for the selfish pain you caused. But most of all...i hope that when kathryn licks your fingers clean she'll taste my blood on your hands.


	5. Football player rapist

**_Disclaimer: i don't own a thing, don't sue me, thanks_**

_please check this out and tell me what you think :)_

**_Note: hey guys! this is chapter 5 and its blaines pov. I cranked this one out pretty fast because i really love writing blaine, he's one of my all time favorite characters. So, even if your not into him try and give this a chance lol thanks, morgan_**

****

**Blaine**

He was a football player rapist who tried far too hard and never really pulled it off. Poor Gregory...always the bridesmaid never the bride. All you had to do was glance at the faces of the tiny little freshman girls and you'd see it, shame. Shame which they'd try to cover up with paint by numbers covergirl and bleached teeth. They could have started a club there were so many of them, the rape survivors of gregory mconnell..anonymous, it would have been quite a success i think, maybe then they wouldn't have started dropping like flies. I, personally, would never kill myself over such a meathead, but then again, he never raped me.

His army of victims would mindlessly roam the halls, trying as best they could to avoid what they thought was the ultimate predator, which is laughable if you knew him as i did. But understandable as well, his desperation to appear straight brought him to amazing lows...and whats lower then forcing your big football playing self on 90 pounds of a girl? If you ever stepped within 60 feet of him you could here him and his big bulky buddies giggling about it. In private however..he was almost...apolajetic. He tried to convince me that he had to do it...cause coming out was just not an option...ever. I chastized him as often as possible, gregory, stop killing freshman! He would just sulk and go on about not meaning too and going to hell...always a whiner. My heart, despite its size, did break for those girls. I mean, could you imagine? being so dumb that you enabled the dumbest boy on earth to get the best of you? That is something i can be proud of...he never got the best of me.

I can't be certain of when it started, of when "us" started. But i am very certain that i was his first boy, he on the other hand was by no means mine. By the time we hooked up i had already tasted half of the fellas at school, including a few of his football friends which certainly steamed his beets i'm tellin you. Some might think that i'm a whore...they'd be on the money. I can't think of anything i enjoy more then turning the lady's man into the mans man, and they all turn, there just waiting to be turned and i'm willing and able to do that. It''s almost too easy sometimes. Then afterwords, they attatch themselves like leeches because i was there first, i made them vulnerable. The best part is berating them, calling them trash, whores, sluts, that they were just my little experiments. Believe it or not, most of them cry.

I never did that to him though...he was far to fragile. And for some insane reason, he had carved out a very miniscule, almost insignificant little place in my heart. I have a softspot for bimbos. Like i said, i can't be certain of when it first happenned but i remember what happened.

It was right before last period..on...someday of the week. I was standing outside of the classroom, discussing...current events with valmont when i just happened to hear a discussion between gregory and our tiny troll of an english teacher. My ears perked up at the mention of my name and i was pleasently surprised as to why my name had been mentioned. Turns out the football stud requested that i be his partner for the upcoming assignment. And low and behold, mrs whats her face paired us together. I wasn't shocked in the slightest, i knew what his intentions were and my suspicians were proved when he came over to "study".

He wasn't exactly the definition of smooth, but, to my surprise he didn't flirt with the words, "do you ugh...wanna suck my dick?". I think i snorted at his question "no, but feel free to suck mine". His chizzled jaw clenched and it made my stomach flutter like a butterfly...girls were nevre able to do that to my stomach. He didn't punch me or call me a fag like i had presumed, he just akwardly undid my pants and took the plunge. I couldn't help but watch, his eyebrows were knitted ith concentration and confusion, i tried my hardest not to laugh because that would certainly warrant a punch. Also i didn't want to discourage him, he showed definite promise. I wasn't overwhelmed with surprise mind you...i always knew it would happen like that. I looked at his eyes...tears were being pinched out...the shame finally caught up with him. I probably should have let him stop but i just gripped his head and bucked harder. Call me crazy but the thought of it gave me a sort of twisted satisfaction. There he was, gregory mconnell, football rapist extraordinare, choking to the point of tears on my dick. Even though they couldn't see it, i'm sure his little victims would feel vindication.

So i did it harder, so hard infact that my pelvis bone chipped part of his canine tooth. I grabbed a fistfull of his hair and pulled him up just to explode all over that pretty face, the pretty face of a faggot slut, it was beautiful. His eyes were wide like a doe as he blinked back the tears that threatened to spill over. God...he was so easy, if only life were as easy as him. He sat hunched over as i lit my celebration joint and asked me the question that i wasn't expecting "so are you my boyfriend now?". My breath caught in my throat at the sight. White goop was easing its way down his face, he was biting his fingertips and was unable to hide the hope in his eyes. His voice came out weak and pleading and i realized who he really was. He was the girls he had raped. He was stupid and weak and chalk full of neediness, he wanted to mean something to somebody.

Sometimes i regret my decision, if i had said yes, maybe it would have made things easier for all those involved. If i had said yes maybe...we could have had a semi normal relationship as opposed to what we have now...a few weekends a year while the fiance is visiting the family, shes a very sweet girl by the way, i like her. After i had given him my answer things flipped back to how they should have gone in the first place. We had rough, awful, meaningless sex...the way sex is supposed to be. He continued to hurt girls while i continued to hurt boys, we never showed our cards, so its hard to say who won. He ended up with a fiance he would never loved no matter if he gave it the good ol college try, and i ended up with a prize winning collection of STD'S. Which by now have combined to create a type of super STD which would require kryptonite to kill. Yes, he's left with a loveless relationship and i'm left with AID'S, fitting.

We still have unprotected sex...which is the parallel of me shooting him and his cutie pie in the fucking head but...he doesn't need to know. Call me evil if you will but i'm not going down alone, infact, i intend on taking as many people as i possibly can with me. So this is the punishment for living the way i do, the way we do. Living a life without feeling or caring is hardly a life worth living. But as luck would have it...i learned that a few boys to late. When we fuck now it's simply going through the motions, its not like it use to be, it use to be like a song, now its like...math. I want it to be a song again...maybe not a love song, just a nice melody would suffice. But no...i only deserve arithmatic.

It could have been so much better...if only we had been taught the proper lessons as children. Love matters..not victory, but there's no use in trying to unlearn such things when you've got a few months to live, we all get whats coming to us. It could have been different, it could have been so very different if i had only said yes instead of, "shut up and wipe my cum off your face".


	6. cannibal

Disclaimer: i don't own anything, don't sue me please, thanks

Reviews please...please...thanks lol

Note: This is the final chapter, its the pov of greg lol i hope you guys like it and thanks for all the reviews, thans a huge bunch, morgan

The girls paint there faces and i'm supposed to swoon. They paint them up something elegant and by the end of the night they look like clowns in the rain. Thats what happens once i'm done with them, once i make my move. These days girls know better then to say "no", they've seen the damage done to there friends, there smarter then that. Now, theres freshmen licking the blood from my shoes, which has piled up from years of climbing on barely budding girls in order to keep and maintain my status. Because, you see, being a rapist isn't all that bad. I get a pat on the back from my friends everytime they hear a hymen tare. They cheer me on at parties everytime they hear a shrill quick shreek errupting from the waif underneath me. And my father congratulates me everytime theres fresh blood stains in my sheets. They both accept and embrace it with eagerness because, you see, being a rapist is far better then being a queer. As long as there best friend fucks chicks the world makes sense to my friends. And as long as his son is knee deep in pussy, my father can sleep easier at night. They couldn't possibly care less about the girls, because really, what are women to men anyway? Accessories, cheap entertainment, dead toys that spring to life once they bleed.

The first time i did it is also the first time i had sex. I was 15...i didn't think to ask her age. She had blonde curls and a crooked smile, in a way she reminded me of annette, which is why i picked her, because i think that if i had, had the chance, i would have wanted annette to be my first. She was so thrilled to be going on a "date" with me, it was cute. It was easier then i had expected...her screams never once broke my determination. Her hands grabbed at my shoulders and i did it harder, making her chin bounce off my arm and her teeth click. After it was over, that sound chased me wherever i went. The coach yelled out a play and all i heard was screams. I held myself and felt tiny hands clutching for life. My friend told a joke...but it was just clicking teeth, thats all i ever heard...teeth clicking.

It got easier after that, i turned it into a sport. How many could i get in a day? how many would beg me to stop? how many would have the gall to fight back?. How badly could i hurt them? I've got a broken nose, three broken jaws, sprained wrist, dislocated knee, a total of 78 stitches and 8 torn cervixes under my belt, i've been a busy boy.

I know its not right, but, around here, right and wrong isn't the question. Girls turned quickly from human to game, to deer, my dick turned into a rifel and i never shot blanks. Now they just seem to accept it, i make my choice and she meets me when i say and we do what i want. I guess i could be soft, i could make them feel good. But when it come to girls...i only know how to make them hurt. When i'm in there, the last place i want to be, i take it out on them. I can't be who i want to be with, i can't be who i want to be, so they suffer for my pain, they feel my pain, because, i can't seem to feel it. A closeted fag should have pain, shouldn't he? My shame shows up in patterns all over there bodies. I paint them in bruises, purple, black, blue, green. Thats what i do...people think i'm stupid, a no talent loser, but if they would just look they'd see it, i'm an artist. My expertise is broken bones and bitten breasts.

All my friends are liars, i know that now, now that blaine made a liar out of me too. He used them all, all of the assholes i tried to impress have spent nights bending at the will of tuttle, just like i have. They all think its a secret, that nobody knows, but i know, he tells me everything, every detail, he hurts them. He told me about how they cried...faggots.

I had a chance to have actual consensual sex once, with annette, when she threw herself at me. Not that either of us discuss it, because then she would have to admit she sees the bad in me. It was after Valmont shamed her, after his refusal of her...the first time. She came over, a massive wreck of tears, and she told me about how he turned her down after she served herself up on a platter. The offer had been tempting, i had enjoyed straight sex more then straight guys did, i enjoyed dishing out punishment. The kissing started and i felt a familiar rage build in me, then i thought of the first girl, the one who looked like annette...and i stopped. She went on and on about being rejected again and asked why i wouldn't do it. At first i was going to lie but the truth, for some reason, found its way out of my lying mouth, "because if i had my way i swear i'd tare you apart". That was the only reason i had to give and she bailed with a fake smile. I knew despit what i said she still wouldn't get it, she'd never get it, what i had turned into, a cannibal.

I still continue to do it even though i know i don't really have to, but, it helps me. Its like my therapy...like football. When i'm on the field i beat them bloody and i rejoice. When i'm inside them i beat them bloody and i rejoice. The field is my church, the girls are my confessional. I fill them with my sins so they can carry my burden...so they can go to hell. The ball is the truth and i throw it to anyone hoping that they'll catch it, when i'm playing, i'm free. When i'm inside them, taring there tiny wombs so that they can't have children, punishing them for my crimes, for my deviancy, i pray...forgive me father.


	7. first impressions

**_Disclaimer: i don't own anything, don't sue_**

**_Note: Hey guys, its been a while eh? well my computer is the devil and it hardly works, it took me hours to get this far lol. so this is the last chapter in the series, i said that the last time too! lol anyway, i hope you guys like it! I don't think that the last chapter was well liked due to the lack of reviews but if your still a fan of this story then please try and review it, thanks :) Morgan_**

p.s if you email me and i don't respond for awhile its because of the previously stated devil computer! oh, i'm not going to tell you who the POV is but its not tricky to figure out :)

p.s.s **very important- **there is a portion of the story that is bold, those are samples of work from the Marquis De Sade! when the quotes are used no one is speaking them, she is thinking or comparing how the persons actions match the writings of the author, whew, ok, i go now :)

He consumed me violently, and with my wrists bound and my pride chained, i could do nothing but beg for more. "You should let me take your picture..." and i did, i certainly did, i would have let him do anything. The bright flash of the camera was no match for the brightness of his smile...those teeth. He had teeth like a wolf, i should have seen the blood dripping from his fangs pooling into the crevices of those lips. Lips that i'm sure had over a thousand stories to tell of girls past...girls just like me. But they never spoke of such things, they moved slow like thick honey, every thing he did, every single movement, seemed to be in slow motion. His wide hands toyed with the camera, or should i say, his gun. His finger pressed down and i was blinded by the light and shot with his bullet. I knew even as it was happening that this was to be my biggest regret, but there was just something about him...something that made me unable to dissapoint.

He had told me about girls, about how they bored him to tears. He said that i seemed different and i know that what i had really heard was bullshit bullshit bullshit, but he made me want to believe him. He had a way about him...charming...condescending...patronizing...mean...overwhelmingly violent...everything one shouldn't want in a suitable suitor. But i knew that it would go nowhere, i knew that what i did with him would be a one time thing. It became perfectly evident that he was the type of guy you simply had a fling with, a guy who was really only good for one thing. He was the type my mother would never approve of or my friends for that matter. But he was just too ripe of an opportunity to pass up...so i decided to slum it.

He didn't dissapoint, it was exactly what i expected it to be. Rough and angry and mean...perfect. He pulled my hair and took hunks out of my skin, he knew exactly how to get me off. He didn't look at me once, he just watched himself in the mirror, he flexed and posed for himself, turning himself on. My pleasure wasn't even a distant thought, he was only interested in his enjoyment. He was like a character straight out of a Marquis De Sade novel. I had written a paper on him in my freshman year but never truly understood his writings until i met sebastian.

He gripped my face and sneered **"What does one want when one is engaged in the sexual act? That everything around you give you its utter attention, think only of you, care only for you...every man wants to be a tyrant when he fornicates." **He pressed his forearm into my neck **"If the objects who serve us feel ecstacy, they are much more often concerned with themselves than with us, and our own enjoyment is consequently impaired. The idea of seeing another person experience the same pleasure reduces one to a kind of equality which spoils the unutterable charms that come from despotism." **He forced me to suck on his fingers which tasted like me **"If it is the dirty element that gives pleasure to the act of lust, then the dirtier it is, the more pleasurable it is bound to be." **He forced himself into unwanted, previously unexplored places, and giggled when i cried **"Any enjoyment is weakened when shared." **

It was odd, the more disgusting the action, the more i moaned. He would spew words of hate yet my crotch would ark into his waiting hand, i had been betrayed by my own body. It was the first time in my life i had ever been subjected to such behavior. It was the first time i had ever met someone so crude, so callous, so...immoral. After all was said and done he left just like i wanted him too. He left my appartment with a smile and he left me bewildered.

I was by no means a virgin before him. I had my fair share of frat boys, med students, art students, law students, i had, had my fair share of just about every type of guy fathomable...but sebastian...was somthing else entirely...a new species...a completely new gender. After my random trysts with varying college boys i was always left with a sickening feeling of guilt and shame. Even if i had enjoyed myself at the time, afterwords i was always left feeling like a whore which i think is true for most girls, but with him...it was so much more then that. He didn't try to convince me that i wasn't just a cozy hole for him to nestle in. He didn't try to trick me or coerce me. He made it abundantly clear that to him, my whole existence was a joke. I was happy that i'd never have to hear from or see him again...or so i thought.

The screen was flashing with obscenities, bright colors hit my eyes like an explosion of fire works. It was done up so wonderfully, so professionally, so skillfully that i was far to busy admiring the artistic ability of the creator to realize what it was displayed infront of me. I'm pretty positive that my eyes registered the image before my brain did because tears fell down onto the keyboard and for the longest time i couldn't for the life of me figure out why. Once the fog lifted i began to throw things. I pictured his head and threw my merit awards. I pictured his smile and threw my trophies. I pictured his dick and threw my fucking girl scout sashes.

The phone wouldn't stop ringing. Everyone who had ever known me called to congratulate me on my new found profession. Losers that i turned down time and time again called to tell me that they realized they hadn't been missing out on anything special. Mother screamed and went on about scholarships and bursaries, things that at the moment didn't seem very important to me. I lost friends, respect, pride, dignity all in one day. Everyone in the entire world saw me in all my glory with the click of a mouse.

My friends, the ones who stuck around, refused to let it die, they wanted to know, they needed reasons and explanations. "how could you let him do that?" I decided that the easiest excuse was to tell them that he drugged me "he slipped somthing in my marlot, i felt weak and dizzy" and blah blah blah. I knew enough about date rape drugs from watching Oprah and listed off the symptoms in alphabetical order. They chewed it up and swallowed it down because they wanted it to be true. In reality however, the real truth, would be far too much for them to digest.

When i first met him i knew he was bad news, he was just screaming "alterior motive" but he didn't show me everything. If i were to sum him up before the "disaster" i'd say that he was wrong, mean and a snob, which didn't bother me whatsoever because those three adjectives describe me as well. I thought that his faults ended there, a snotty rich boy, who if i dug deeper had normal, even half decent qualities...his best side was my worst invention. I had thought him harmless, not physically, but harmless enough. Now when my friends bring him up i bite my tongue and bide my time until they find a new topic. Now when my friends ask i lower my eyes and simply say "none of this would have happened if he had just lived up to his first impression". They leave it at that and i can see the pity in there eyes.

When i heard tell of his death i felt..nothing really. He wasn't my mortal enemy, he was no cosmic pre assigned lover of mine. He didn't bring tears to me eyes because the stench of him had washed off of me quick enough and i couldn't be bothered to feign remorse. Sebastian wasn't the kind of boy you cared about, or loved. I don't care that he lived and i care less that he died. He didn't inspire me to write sonnets or love songs. I never once spilled my blood over him or changed my eating habits. I never lost a wink of sleep and when he did infact die, the world didn't shift, nothing was thrown off balance, if it wasn't for my mother i wouldn't have even known and i would never have thought to ask about him. Sebastian had no qualities that made me swoon or sway. He had no qualities that i loved or respected. I was never weak in the knees and nothing inside of me has melted or hardened at the thought of his face. Sebastian was good for but one thing. No i don't care that he died, i don't care that at one very low point in my life he fucked me over in all imaginable ways. Sebastian Valmont was a loser, a lost punk that apparently got in way over his head, he never was anything at all. Nope, i couldn't have possibly cared less whether he existed or not, he only had one thing that ever made me momuntarily insane. Sebastian valmont is incredibly dead, incredibly and undeniably dead...but he still gets me off.


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